The Two Hanks in the Heavens
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: This story is a follow-up to Chapter 2 of mphs95's Three Wishes. Pops is reunited with his wife and encounters his namesake before the baby cherub heads for earth. The two like-named Booths share a conversation.
1. Chapter 1

The Two Hanks in the Heavens

 **A/N: This extra un-Secret Santa fic for ecv is a result of an inspiration from mphs95. She wrote me a top-notch unforgettable second Santa story, which sparked an idea in my head. I ran it past her to be sure it wouldn't spoil her plans, and she encouraged me to 'put it out there.' So I did. As Jackie Gleason used to say, "And away we go!"**

Chapter 1

Hank Booth Senior was a church-goer all his life. He'd attended Sunday school as a boy, raised his son in his faith, took his grandsons to church when he took over their care, tried to believe in God's goodness and purpose when he lost his wife to cancer, and clung to the hope that they'd meet again once he'd 'shuffled off his mortal coil' as Shakespeare had said.

As Hank stepped off the escalator that carried him up to heaven, he was delighted to spot his beloved Marie waiting for him inside the Pearly Gates. She was as spry as she'd been before her long illness; brown eyes sparkling with joy and a familiar smile across her face. She grabbed his hand as soon as he cleared the entrance, vibrating with excitement.

"Finally, you're here! I've got so much to show and tell you!" she enthused. "Golly, I've missed ya!"

"You've been watchin' me, haven't you, girlie?" Hank asked her with a grin.

"Sure I have, Hank Booth! You didn't think I'd leave you to raise those two boys without some help, didja? I kept an eye on things, nudged you into learning how to cook, prodded you when a bit more patience was called for; but I gotta say, you did a helluva job with Shrimp and Jared, Honey. They're both fine men. Seeley a bit more so, but Jared's getting there."

"I knew it! I felt you there, you know. I somehow sensed your being nearby," Hank said softly.

"That's part of the deal. You get to help the guardian angels; keep an eye on your family still down there; help 'em out a bit from time to time with a little inspiration. Ya even get to talk to the younger ones. It's one of those Santa Claus things. If they're young enough to still believe in Christmas magic even a little, they can see you sometimes. The babies most of all," she told him.

"You know there's gonna be another little Booth, Marie? Temperance had just told me she was pregnant again."

"Of course, I knew, you old silly. It's gonna be a boy, and they're gonna name the little squirt after you, my dear," Marie said fondly. "It usually takes a while to get your first visit back approved, but they've decided to make an exception in this case. Since Shrimp's in prison, they're sending you down to give some comfort to Bones, and Parker, and that adorable little granddaughter of ours," she confided with a smile. "Bones! That's such a clever name for her! Shrimp did really good when he coined that nickname! Makes me chuckle every time I hear him call her that!"

"Now get going, Hank, your wake's about to start. Temperance got it all arranged in Philly. She's even catered American, Provi, or whiz, widdout from Geno's for the spread!"

"That girl got Philly Cheesesteaks for the VFW guys? God, I love her! I wish you coulda met her, Honey, she's just so good for our Shrimp, you know?" Hank declared.

"Yes, I know, she _is_ perfect for our boy. Now go on, you've gotta hear some rules before you go. I'll be waiting here when you get back, Hank Booth, you can be sure of that!"

oooooooooooo

Seven months later as earth time runs, Hank Senior was out for a morning stroll while his wife had coffee and pie with her friends. He spotted a cherub playing with a kitten in the gutter, his halo askew atop tousled dark brown curls.

"That little guy's hair is as mussed up as Parker's used to be," Hank thought to himself, and he realized why the munchkin seemed so familiar. He walked up to the small angel and said softly, "Hi there, kiddo."

The little boy looked up at Hank with chocolate eyes as dark as his own. "Hi, Mister Booth," he said.

"You know who I am?" Pops asked in surprise.

"Sure I do, you're my great-granpa!" came the reply. "You know those people I'm gonna meet down there soon, right?"

"I sure do, Son, I sure do! They can't wait to meet you. You're gonna be the luckiest little boy ever! You've got a wonderful mom and dad waiting for you, a sweet big sister, and the greatest big brother any kid could ask for! You're gonna have a wonderful life, Henry Joseph Booth!"

"I thought my name was Hank," the little angel said.

"That's the short version," Pops laughed, scooping his namesake up in his arms and setting the cherub on his shoulders. _Sure feels great to be able to do that again, without all those aches and pains!_ He thought to himself. "Let's go meet your great granma before they send you down to your family! She's gonna love you, for sure! And don't worry, the two of us will come visit you in a year or so."


	2. Chapter 2

Two Hanks, Part 2

Henry Joseph Booth II might have made a more mundane entrance into the world than Christine; since he was born in an ordinary hospital room rather than a utility shed as his sister had been. But little Hank was not to be outdone, and his arrival had been memorable in its own way. After nine months of listening to his parents bicker anew about the relative merits and drawbacks of a home versus hospital birth, Pop's third great-grandchild made the decision for them.

The victim in their latest case had been found in the laundry department of Washington DC's Veterans Affairs Medical Center. A young environmental services worker reported absent from his job for two weeks had been found inside one of the furnace pipes. The Jeffersonian team's analysis had led Booth and Aubrey to Freddy Miller, a disgruntled plumber employed by the VA. Hodgins' discovery of rag paper fragments and unique currency ink stains on the victim's clothing revealed Miller's moonlighting as a counterfeiting loan shark who took viciously decisive action when the unfortunate youth failed to make good on his payday advance loan repayment.

Booth and Brennan had just left the FBI after interrogating Miller's one employee when an informant spotted the man entering the hospital. Aubrey was out with the flu, and Brennan insisted she and Booth drive straight to the VA medical center to apprehend Miller before he slipped away. They found the man in his supervisor's office, arguing about overtime pay. The manager had cleverly raised a subject he knew would incense Miller to stall his departure, and vehemently disputed what the man claimed he was owed. When Booth and Brennan arrived, the secretary ushered them into the payroll manager's office to confront Miller. Booth asked the man several casual questions as his wife observed for reactions. After a silent exchange between the partners, Booth took Miller into custody for further questioning. As he called for transportation and cuffed the man, Brennan's grimace caught the agent's attention.

"Bones, you okay?"

"No, Booth! My water just broke!"

"Ho-boy, Bones, take it easy; breathe; I'll call the midwife and get you home."

"No time, Booth, he's coming!"

"Who?"

"Your son!"

The payroll supervisor grabbed his phone and called the Chief of Staff. Twenty minutes later a patient observation room had been commandeered as a birthing suite, and Hank Booth II made his entrance into the world with the same understated military flair of Booth men before him.

Brennan was not at all pleased by this disruption of her carefully-planned home birth arrangements, but once the dark-haired infant was placed in her arms, nothing else mattered. Opening bright eyes the same captivating chocolate hue as his father's, her tiny son looked straight at her, with no hint of an unfocused newborn gaze.

"He's so alert," she murmured softly, kissing the velvety head.

"Just like his momma," Booth whispered in wonder.

"Booth, he looks just like you. Same eyes, same hair. No resemblance to me at all," Brennan retorted tenderly.

"Maybe not, Bones, but he's got your brain for sure. Look at that determined stare. He's gripping my finger like a champ already!"

"If only your grandfather had lived long enough to see this little guy," Brennan sighed.

"Oh, I suspect he can see his namesake just fine. Probably hanging around close by right now, pleased as punch with his new great-grandson and bursting with pride over the two of you!" Booth declared.

"Why would Hank be proud of me?" Brennan asked in confusion.

"Cause you're the one who gave him little Hank, Bones!"

Up in the corner of the room, a chuckle rumbled through Pops. "Right you are, Shrimp, right you are!"

The silver-haired lady beside the eldest Booth punched him in the shoulder. "Hank, you're incorrigible. Look at him; such a perfect little man, looks just like Edwin, and both his sons; I wish I could hold him just once," Marie said softly.

The newest Booth stared up at the pair of angels, and winked ever so slightly.

ooooooooooooooo

Eight months later, Hank 'the bruiser' Booth awakened as the first soft colors of dawn illuminated his room. He laid on his back playing with his toes, then gnawed on his fist to relieve his sore gums. Those pesky sharp white things surely hurt as they pushed their way out. But they did make eating his favorite banana slices and cheerios easier. Clutching his favorite Gund bear, he carried on a conversation with Riley the dog and the colorful tigers in Aunt Angela's murals. Suddenly, a tall person leaned over the crib rail, but it wasn't his mommy or daddy. Instead, a gray-haired man and lady stood there. They had kind faces that somehow seemed familiar, especially the jolly man who grinned at him.

"Hey, little Hank, how's my namesake doing? Do you remember me and Gramma? We talked a bit before you came to live down here. You've certainly grown a lot, and gotten strong like your daddy since then!"

The short, slightly plump lady held out her finger to him the way his mommy did. Her eyes sparkled with merriment. Hank rolled over onto his tummy, got up on his haunches, and pulled himself to standing. Holding to the crib rail with one hand, he reached the other toward her and grasped her finger. She gently ruffled his hair the way Granpa Max did sometimes. Her delighted laugh reminded him of the bells on his car seat play bar.

"Hi, baby Hank, I'm your Gram. At least that's what your daddy called me when he was small. You look just like him, you know?

The baby gurgled happily, and chattered back to the elderly pair in a language only he understood. Or so he thought. Chrissy, Parker, Mommy nor Daddy knew what he was saying, but the old man chuckled and the old lady nodded.

"That's right, sweetheart. We met you back in heaven, and we watch over you from there every day. We just wanted to come see you this morning. You crawl faster than anyone in the family ever has, and you'll be walking before the grown-ups know it-"

Marie stopped speaking suddenly as she heard the creak of a bedspring, and a muted thump as two feet gingerly hit the carpeted floor of Booth and Brennan's master bedroom, followed by a deep-throated groan.

"Poor Shrimp, his feet must be aching worse than usual this morning. That used to happen with my shoulders when the weather changed," she whispered to her husband.

"Dada," baby Hank announced cheerfully.

The bedroom door clicked as Booth started toward his son's nursery.

"We better make tracks before our little man here starts another conversation," Pops remarked. As Little Hank watched, they slowly faded from sight.

"Bye, bye," he said, waving as he'd learned to do when somebody left.

"Hey, kiddo, you've been chattering a mile a minute! Who're you taking to; your stuffed animals or the sunbeams?" Booth asked as he entered the room, lifted his son high over his head, and perched him on the broad shoulders Brennan admired so much.

Chortling with delight, Hank grabbed a handful of his father's hair for balance. "Dada!" he crowed.

"That's my boy! Let's go see what we can rustle up for your breakfast before Mommy wakes up," Booth told him.

"I heard that, Booth, don't you be filling him with your sugary cereal!" Brennan muttered as she rolled over and punched her pillow.


End file.
